


with fifteen pillows

by orphan_account



Series: Soft and Tender [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Keith is Perry, Lance is a pillow-addict, M/M, Sleepy Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 23:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18158174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: prompt:“I like this, being so close to you.”(Lance keeps buying new pillows. he uses the same one every night).





	with fifteen pillows

**Author's Note:**

> this is even more mindlessly fluffy than my usual DRABBLES. (I was informed by google that the correct word for short stories is drabble not dabble... if we swallow the shame, I'm more educated than I was hours ago, so, yay me).
> 
> anyway, I might not upload for a couple of days because of school and hw, but there's a 5+1 coming up and I also wanted to post something today, too. so, have this small thingy.
> 
> hope you'll enjoy :3
> 
> EDIT: to AnonWrites, of course Lance will continue wearing the crystal!

“I’m home!” calls Lance.

Keith looks up from his work, adjusting his glasses.

“Hey,” he greets and looks at the bags Lance is carrying in the living room. They’re. A lot. “So, finally bought the whole mall, I see?”

“Ha-ha,” he says, face blank. He thumps the bags on the couch and follows them suit. “I’m beat.”

“I still don’t know how you manage to shop for—” Keith checks the time. “Five hours.”

“It’s one of my many talents, along with being unbelievably handsome and having the best bods there is,” he says, wiggling his eyes and looking up at him from where he’s lying down. He scooches closer to him and settles his head on Keith’s lap. “But it’s Allura’s fault, I was barely able to walk after three hours.”

Keith hums.

Lance is wearing the freckles-crystal again—to be clear, he wears it almost everywhere except work and Keith has never feared for a heart attack more in his life. The first time he saw Lance’s face glowing with tiny, adorable dots, he’ll be honest, Keith nearly fainted—the fact that Lance had been wearing _his_ hoodie wasn’t much of a help either.

He smiles down at Lance and reaches his hand to gently caress the sparks across his cheeks.

“Did you at least find the sunglasses you were looking for?” he asks, connecting the dim blue freckles with his finger, creating unique constellation only for Lance.

“No,” he says, leaning into his touch. “ _But_ I found some new hoodies and I saw these socks that are _so_ fluffy,” he sits up then and after shuffling through some of the bags, he takes out four pairs of fluffy, colorful socks.

Lance holds them up to the sides of his face, smiling sweetly at Keith.

“I got the rainbow and the grumpy cat one for you,” he says and jerks the hand in which he’s holding the said socks. “The rainbow ‘cause, y’know, you’re pretty gay if you haven’t noticed it yet,” Lance jokes, smirking with a brow raised in a teasing way. Keith huffs a laugh. “And the other one because you’re my sweet lil’ grumpy cat,” he says and reaches his hands forward, cupping Keith’s face and pinching his cheeks. “Keithy-cat.”

God, he’s adorable. Lance is so fucking adorable Keith might collapse, his chest is all warm and fluttery and so, so happy. Keith smiles between Lance’s hands, can’t really help it, and he’s sure he looks disgustingly dopey and in love.

“So now ‘m a cat?” he says, barely able to make the words comprehensible with the way Lance is squishing his cheeks together.

“Yea,” says Lance, smiling at him, it crinkles his eyes and adds more spark to his beautiful blues. “I’m gonna name you Perry.”

“Please don’t.”

“So, my dearest Perry, I got socks and hoodies, like I already said,” he continues, leaning away to look through the things. “Oh, I also got you a beanie.”

Lance holds up a dark grey beanie. It has cat ears. Keith stares at him, expression unamused. Lance ignores him and puts it over his head.

Keith’s a little ashamed of how fucking happy he is that Lance just. Sees stuff and buys them for him. Like, just simply because he wants to. God, it feels good. Lance makes him feels so happy.

“What?” asks Lance.

“Cat ears?”

“It’s cute.”

“My boyfriend sees me as a cat.”

“Oh, relax, Perry,” Lance waves at him and Keith blows some air at his face, making Lance’s nose scrunch— _scrunch_ —in the most adorable way.

They go through the things Lance bought, some blankets, a lot of hoodies, like, really lot. Some face masks and a new mug and tiny baby gloves ( _they were so cute! We can give them to Pidge anyway._ ) and—

“You have an addiction,” Keith says, frowning at the two new decorative pillows in Lance’s hands.

“There’s no such thing as too many pillows,” Lance reasons with his chin up.

“We have exactly thirteen more of those,” says Keith.

Lance’s pillow addiction began somewhere between his hair being dyed white and Lance discovering his eyes were a little purple. And after that, they have had a family of pillows in their bedroom.

“I’m happy you can count, now with these two we’ll have fifteen!” Lance chimes, jumping a little on the couch.

“You don’t even use them,” Keith grumbles and grabs the pink one with golden stars. It’s so stupidly charming, he can almost understand why Lance keeps buying them. They key word being almost. He frowns down at it, squishing it in his hands.

“Aww, look,” he coos and Keith looks up at him, confused. Lance pokes his cheeks with a finger. “You’re such a gwumpy cat!”

Keith rolls his eyes, but when Lance moves closer to kiss his cheek, Keith snakes his arms around his middle.

“Wanna go to bed?” asks Keith, looking at him—his freckles, they’re mesmerizing, okay?! He can’t really do much but stare.

“Yeah,” Lance says—it comes out more like a breath than anything else. He doesn’t move, though, only leans further into him until his head is heavy on Keith’s shoulder and his arms are gentle around his neck.

Lance starts kissing the exposed skin under his jaw, his lips velvet and lingering.

“Wanna move so we can get up?” says Keith, his eyes fluttering shut when Lance trails his mouth up. He tilting his head back so Lance can have better access, so Lance can kiss that spot that—

“Lance,” he sighs, and maybe he’d be embarrassed by how his voice is slightly shaky, but Keith’s too drunk on the way Lance keeps his lips exactly where he wants them to be.

But it lasts only for a second longer. Lance leans away and smirks at him, his face is so smug and he looks so pleased with himself that Keith wants to show exactly how wrecked _he_ can get under Keith’s touch.

“Yes?” he says, twirling Keith’s bangs on his finger.

“You’re a tease.”

“You love it.”

Keith does. Mostly.

Lance yawns then and Keith pushes him up to his feet.

“Come on,” he says, linking their fingers and dragging a very sleepy Lance to the bedroom.

“I have to unpack those,” he says lazily, yawning again, and idly points at the bags behind him.

“We’ll unpack them tomorrow.”

Lance goes to the bathroom for his skincare, and Keith readies the bed and changes into pajamas. He pushes the thirteen small—but still, so illogically adorable—pillows off the bed, Lance won’t use them anyway and rolls under the covers.

Lance returns, his face glossy from the facemask, the crystal removed. He plops on top of Keith, throwing one leg across his middle, tangling it with Keith’s, and buries his face into the other’s neck.

“Wow, Lance, the pillows, you’re using them so well,” Keith deadpans, cradling Lance into a warm hug, holding him closer.

“Shut up,” he mumbles sleepily. Lance slides a hand into Keith’s hair and just, keeps it there, tangled into his locks, holding the back of his head in a delicate way. “I like this, being so close to you.”

“I know,” says Keith and kisses the side of Lance’s temple. “I like being close to you, too.”

“Hm,” he hums, his breaths already deep and slow. Lance nuzzles his face into his neck a bit more; his short, soft hair tickles Keith’s cheek.

This, Lance in his arms, his presence being a comfortable weight on Keith’s chest, is so inexplicably wholesome Keith thinks his heart might downright explode. He _feels_ Lance, his every motion, his every breath and each heartbeat and each slightest jerk of his fingers when he’s dreaming. He feels how, sometimes, Lance tightens his arms around him in sleep, how he sometimes mumbles unintelligible words across his skin.

Keith feels it all. And it blooms a special kind of peacefulness in him, the kind he only feels during these moments, when he’s between a blissful state of sleep and consciousness.

He cherishes each second of it.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks for reading!
> 
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://yourfriendlyneighborsam.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/frendlysam)


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